


Spur of the Moment

by kiranightshade



Series: twcaw [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Season/Series 01, Dead Derek, Feral Behavior, Feral Peter, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Parent/Child Incest, Werewolf Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: His thoughts are hazy around the edges. He needs pack. Betas. He is weak.There is a crash behind him, a frightened little heartbeat. Peter pins the human to the ground, looks him in the eye. He is a strong human, pretty, but still weak on his own.Peter can make him strong.





	Spur of the Moment

Derek is dead. Laura is dead. Myers is dead. The clerk dies. Peter is alone.

His thoughts are hazy around the edges. He needs pack. Betas. He is weak. 

There is a crash behind him, a frightened little heartbeat. Peter pins the human to the ground, looks him in the eye. He is a strong human, pretty, but still weak on his own. 

Peter can make him strong.

 

*** 

 

Peter follows his beta home and the house is empty. 

His beta is hesitant at first, but he likes power. Peter teaches him as best he can. He still feels submerged. His thoughts are still fuzzy, but he knows it isn’t right. His wolf is too dominant, but that’s okay. His beta indulges him, lets him close. Peter can feel himself getting better.

His beta gasps, leaning back, a warm line up Peter’s front. The half-moon is out, casting bright light through the open window. Peter nuzzles the claw marks on his beta’s neck, his closeness a balm to his soul. He smells like pack.

“Peter,” he says, awed. He says his name a few times, turning on the bed to face him. He holds his face in his hands. Peter whines.

“I knew your name, but I never saw your face. I couldn’t find a decent picture. Holy shit. It’s really you.”

Peter doesn’t understand everything his beta says, but he sounds happy. Peter tugs him closer, takes deep inhales of his scent. He likes him happy.

 

*** 

 

They kill the men in the woods together. It feels right. 

His beta carves their intent into a nearby tree. He’s beautiful, standing there covered in the blood of their enemies, bathed in moonlight. The huntress will know what she’s started. His beta takes him home, bathes him by the pool. He shifts back into a man to dry. His beta provides a robe, food, and a bed. He trusts him, cares for him. It feels good.

 

*** 

 

The huntress permeates his land like poison. Peter growls out her name and his beta is surprised.

“Argent? Like Allison Argent.”

Peter growls deeper. 

“They’re the hunters!”

Peter is confused. He showed his beta the fire, the huntress’ laughter. Names are hard. He must have forgot. 

“Argents kill us,” Peter says. It is difficult. The words feel clumsy on his tongue.

“No. We’ll kill them.”

Peter hums. That sounds nice.

 

*** 

 

Jackson is missing and Peter is pissed.

He smells perfume and follows it to a girl at the high school. Underneath the artificial scent, she smells different, more than human, like an old friend. He wants to know. He takes her instead.

She finds Jackson. Peter thanks her, offers her information. There’s intelligence in her eyes, beneath the fear. She takes the bite. She will wake powerful.

 

*** 

 

His dad is in the hospital and Stiles is pissed.

Kate Argent is her name and Stiles has absolutely no patience for her games. Stiles takes out the gun nobody knows he has, the bulletproof vest he stole, and he tracks her phone to the abandoned Hale House. 

She isn’t there when he arrives, but Jackson is. Stiles helps him down, and drags him back upstairs. His nails bite into his shoulder, but he ignores the pain. 

“Stiles?” Jackson asks, squinting up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your dumb ass, apparently.”

A woman laughs at the doorway. “This is your alpha?” Stiles’ gun is out in the time it takes for Kate to cock her shotgun. She smirks at him, clearly amused. “No, I suppose not. Pretty enough to be the pack bitch though.”

Jackson snarls, pulling Stiles back. Stiles falls to his side, and watches as a beast rushes towards them. Kate turns to the larger threat, showing her back to him. Stiles shoots. The beast lunges. Kate drops to the ground. 

Stiles doesn’t lower his gun. Heart racing, he stands, and then freezes as Jackson rushes forward. The beast immediately pulls him into his arms, and begins to shrink into a man.

“What, who are you?” 

The man, beast, man looks to him and says, “Peter.”

“Stiles, lower the gun before you hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.” Stiles says automatically. It breaks the tension. Stiles lowers his gun. 

Jackson tells him everything.

 

*** 

 

The boy, Stiles, learns some old magic. Peter doesn’t know how, but he uses it to heal him, help him think. Words are easier now.

He’s a bright boy, talented. Peter wants him, wants to claim him as his own. Unfortunately, his beta doesn’t seem to like him, and he remains out of reach. It’s a shame. Stiles understands loyalty and pack. He’d make a good beta.

Stiles left hours ago. Peter stares at the ceiling and wonders why Jackson’s parents are never home. They should have noticed his presence by now, especially in the first few months. How did Jackson keep him hidden? The memories are fuzzy. He remembers smelling pack and something else.

Jackson tightens his hold on him in his sleep. The moon casts shadows over his face and Peter stares. Sleep may be difficult, but in that moment Peter feels peace.

 

*** 

 

“So,” Jackson says, “Stilinski says you’ve got all your faculties back in order.”

“He’s been invaluable, yes. I’m looking forward to establishing proper ties with him soon.”

“Are you going to bite him?”

Peter looks up from his checkbook. He had not, in fact, intended anything of the sort. An alliance with a powerful practitioner like what Stiles will no doubt grow to be is exactly what Peter would happily settle for, but there hadn’t been any disgust in his voice, and it gives him enough hope to ask, “Would you like me too?”

Jackson shrugs. “We used to be friends back in elementary school. Then Lydia moved here and Scott not long after that and we didn’t get along so much anymore.”

“I know who Lydia is, but who is Scott?”

“Some dumbass that had Stiles trailing after him within two weeks. It was pathetic. Looks like he’s moved on though now that he’s got himself a girlfriend. Stiles will probably start to hang out with Heather, Zoe, or just spend a lot of time at the sheriff’s station.”

“Do you want him to be pack?”

“I don’t not want him to be pack, but you do know that you’ll basically be fathering two boys who act like brothers.”

Peter thinks of how he and his brother used to fight, with and at each other, smiling. “That’ll be just fine, I think. Except for one thing, I’m your alpha, not your father.”

Something odd happens with Jackson’s scent, but it’s gone before Peter can place it.

 

*** 

 

Peter wakes up pleasantly sore and to the smell of freshly fallen leaves, dew, and Jackson. It was a good run. Peter smiles.

Jackson makes a long grunting noise as he stretches awake, dropping on top of him. Peter brushes a bit of dirt from his cheek and admires the morning light on his bare shoulders. Jackson rises onto his elbows, smiling down at him. He really is beautiful.

Peter doesn’t think about it, doesn’t plan it, but one moment their staring at each other and the next they’re kissing like drowning men. 

Peter doesn’t know how long they stay like that, murmuring feverishly to each other. The sun is high in the sky when something soft hits him in the face. 

They separate enough to see Stiles waiting for them at the edge of the clearing. A shirt joins the pants currently lying next to them. 

“You ready to go or should I come back later?” Stiles asks, fighting not to laugh. 

“Fuck off,” Jackson so eloquently puts. Stiles does laugh then. 

“I’ll come back later.”

 

*** 

 

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

“So that he can leave me? Protect me? No.”

“He’s your father.”

“He never raised me. He never even knew I existed.”

“Jackson…”

“No. It’s better this way. We’re happy this way.”

“He’ll find out eventually.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that he’ll be pissed if he knows that you knew, and kept it from him.”

“I know what I’m doing, Stilinski.”

“I really hope you do.”


End file.
